“Vulak are a simple race,” Darien said. “I can send an imp and they will be impressed enough to follow a simple order. But I have to get the gem out of the city. I have a plan for that as well. I cannot project myself to the mortal realm, but I cannot refuse a proper summons by a powerful magician. This is only a setback. We know where the gem is. If we can’t get it into a powerful ally’s hands, we can at least get it out of the protections of a city.”
“I am only allowing you to exist after this failure because you are my most powerful underling, but I will not hesitate to demote you all the way back to the pits if you fail me again.” Murdread then laughed. “Demons of your rank do not always survive such loss in rank.”
“My plan is flawless,” Darien said. He crawled to his feet then bowed. He turned to his remaining guards and said, “Clean up this mess. Find Kirvel and send him to my office.” He left the room as quickly as he could without running, afraid to gaze again upon his master’s wrath.
His plan had been flawless. He’d hired the most reputable mortal among those who earned their living in the shadows, and he’d ensorcelled him to make sure the key was not only found and stolen, but delivered. The inn he’d chosen for the exchange was noted as the safest place from thieves and he hadn’t taken his eyes off Julivel. If he ever encountered that mortal again, he swore to make the suffering last weeks. Darien smiled at the thoughts of how he would punish the betraying rogue. If he couldn’t torture the mortal, someday Julivel would die, and his soul would come to Demia and Darien would claim it and torture it forever.
He stepped into the hall towards his quarters and bumped into another demon. “Watch where I’m going you…” Darien recognized whom he’d bumped into before he could add an insult. Lady Glacia, a rival lord to Murdread, blocked the hall. Darien dropped to the floor, and spouted as many apologies as he could. He knew he should be confronting her, asking her what she was doing in Murdread’s fortress, but she was one of the Hundred, the most powerful lords in Demia. He’d seen her freeze a demon solid and chip pieces away and didn’t want to find out what that felt like.
“Get up, Darien,” Glacia said.
Her voice was like a purr to Darien’s ears almost as pleasing to hear as her body was to admire, but Darien didn’t dare look below her neck when she could notice. He stood slowly and stepped away from the demoness. Finding a spot on the wall to study, Darien said, “Milady, what brings you here.”
“I’m merely trying to offer my help.” She leaned her black scaled wings against the wall and stretched her bare coppery arms over her head. “I know what you’re after and I have some hounds and a houndskeeper who are available to project to the mortal realm you just came from.”
“You mean to take the gem for yourself,” Darien said, daring to accuse the Lady Glacia.
“No, I have no interest in a mortal world. I already possess the best property in all of Demia, but to get Murdread off this little plot would give me a prime staging ground if I ever choose to challenge Osiris for the Crown. That’s something far beyond Murdread’s aspirations and the Mortal world is far below mine.”
“I see.” Darien nodded. Her plan made sense. “But why talk to me and not my lord? Surely the best alliance is between lords.”
“Murdread, unlike you, is an idiot. You understand how my help is beneficial to both of us. Murdread would never get beyond his suspicion that I’m after what he’s after. So, I work with you and Murdread never needs to know.”
“Can I think about it?”
“No.” Glacia stepped away from the wall and turned her back to Darien and started walking. “If you don’t want my help, I don’t want to waste my time selling it.”
Darien watched her take a few steps before chasing after her. “I agree to your plan. Let’s send your hounds.”
Without looking back towards Darien, Glacia said, “Running makes you look weak, desperate.” She then stopped and turned, stopping Darien at the end of her ice crystal staff. She caught his gaze with her golden eyes, “I’ll send the hounds, for my reasons, I am not your friend or your ally in this.”
“I understand. I don’t care as long as my goals are reached.” Darien tried to seem aloof, but his eyes kept darting to the dangerous end of her staff which threatened him less than a handbreadth from his chin.
In a deep, quiet moan, Glacia said, “Remember this is our secret.” She winked and spun. Her tail swayed gently as she walked away. Then it suddenly snapped like a whip. “Your eyes have no business down there, underling,” her voice sang teasingly.
Darien tried to lift his gaze away. Some assets of a Lord were infinitely beyond even his high rank.
CHAPTER 5: PANTROS
Pantros drank alone at the end of the bar. The mug in front of him contained only water, but he wondered if perhaps this were a day for wine. The lunch crowd had come and gone and his sister, Tara, sat at the other end of the bar counting the till.
“How’d we do? “ Dale, the cook, asked as he stepped out from the kitchen.
“You’ll get paid,” Tara said, “We pull a profit, always just enough to get by. But, what more do we need?”
“True,” Dale said, filling a mug with beer from a cask behind the bar. When Tara raised an eyebrow at him he explained, “This stuff the Goldenwind clan brings in makes a strong tasting beer bread.” He took a sip then headed back to the kitchen.
Pantros knew that Dale wasn’t making beer bread but so did Tara. What Tara didn’t know was that Pantros slipped a few coins into the till most days to make sure the inn stayed profitable. His reason for wanting the wine wasn’t to celebrate his wealth, but to drown his indecision over whether or not to tell Tara about it.
James and Bouncer, the doormen, stepped into the Inn. It was still a little early for their shift, but the beer wasn’t the only benefit of working at the Hedgehog. Any soup that didn’t get finished off by the lunch crowd got finished off by the doormen. Bouncer filled a mug with water and took the seat next to Pantros.
James hobbled over and filled a mug with whiskey before joining Pantros and Bouncer at the end of the bar. Pantros held back a chuckle when the two doormen tried to slyly switch mugs. The Matderi, as a race, valued their masculinity, and James couldn’t be seen as weak by drinking only water. But even with an ancient scarred war hammer as a crutch, whiskey would hamper James’ balance. Bouncer, having muscles the size of Pantros, could nurse a whole mug of whiskey over the course of a night and never be affected by it.
Tara waved at them. “I’ll go tell Dale to send out the rest of the soup and see if we need anything before the dinner crowd shows up.” She disappeared into the kitchen.
With a gentle nudge, Bouncer asked Pantros, “What was that all about last night?”
“What do you mean?” Pantros exaggerated his innocent face. He never thought for a second that he’d fool Bouncer.
“You took something from someone and had that someone not been so rude, I’d have called you on it last night.”
James thumped his mug onto the bar. “And you were sloppy. Well, not that I actually saw you take anything, but coins in a crowd? That could have gotten very dangerous.”
“I didn’t do anything.” Pantros knew they knew, but admitting guilt never came to anything good.
Bouncer sighed and shook his head. “I’d hate to be the one to tell Tara you broke the rules of the house. I know you’ve had it rough since your buddy left, and it seems like you take it harder every day. I hear about people losing things. Rich, dangerous people lose valuable things from places that things don’t normally get lost from. Like the safe of a certain Pirate Prince.”
Pantros smiled. That had been a tough burglary, but the money had been more than worth it. Maybe Pantros had been taking bigger risks since Bryan left.
Placing a hand on Pantros’ shoulder, Bouncer continued. “I am off topic now, but the point is that by taking it to the point where you are stealing in the one place you swore never to steal from, you’re going too far.”
James leaned in and asked, “So, was it your missing friend or a large reward that caused you to ply your skills where you oughtn’t.”
“I’m not admitting to anything,” Pantros said, reaching into a concealed pocket under his armpit. “Let’s just
